


Masks

by Kitsu



Category: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-07-29
Updated: 2009-07-29
Packaged: 2018-05-15 13:45:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5787439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kitsu/pseuds/Kitsu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Introspective from Tseng's POV as he's bedridden after getting stabbed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Masks

We all wear masks – every day and all the time. One mask for each set of circumstances - all circumstances. One for family, one for friends, one for work. I know it, everyone knows it. People change when they move from one situation to another. They smile and pretend everything is okay when their old childhood friend asks how they are feeling, but as soon the door closes behind them, and they're all alone in their flat, looking in a mirror, the worry-lines on their face will look doubly deep.  
  
The masks function as armour. They shield us, let us hide our true selves. The selves we don't want others to see.  
  
I don't want him to see what his orders do to me. How much they hurt. How badly I want him to stop this “rule of fear” he have instigated. I respect him too much, respect him as the son of the late President and as the new head of the Shinra Company. I don't want to see him ruin himself, ruin the company, something I honestly believe will happen if he continues down this particular path. I want to do my job, and do it well. I want to serve him. Serve the boy I watched over as he grew into a man and see him take the place as the new President in a way befitting him.  
  
But instead I lie here confined to a sickbed, with what is basically a hole through my torso. I know the legends say that a Masamune blade is the mark of a calm warrior at peace with himself. The General's blade seemed more like a Murasama to me, bloodthirsty and evil, as it pierced right through me. The wound it left won't heal properly, the ragged edges of the scar seeming almost malicious in themselves, as they refuse to disappear, to let me return to my post.  
  
Only fragmented reports of the incidents happening all over Gaia reach me, most all rumours and second-hand stories. For once I wish Reno would drop by, since then I could at least try to get something coherent out of him.  
  
But then again, Reno is Reno. Maybe Rude would be better? No, he doesn't really speak that much. Elena would probably be preferable. But they're all busy. Busy fighting a war where we might be the ones in the wrong. I'm not sure any longer. At least, from the few fragments of info I'm getting, it seems like we are the more destructive ones. As we are programmed to be.  
  
Rufus Shinra is the destructive one. A force of nature, a tornado. If he could just learn to calm down, he would maybe become more like the gentle Zephyr, the messenger of spring, the dawn of a new period for Gaia, a better leader than his father ever was. But like Zephyr, Rufus possesses a major personality-flaw. In the former case it was jealousy; in the latter, megalomania. If Rufus doesn't learn to control it, in the end it **will** be his downfall.  
  
And because of this injury the General gave me, I will not be able to try and stop it, to soften his fall. And because of it I almost feel left behind, alone, claustrophobic here where I lie surrounded by the hospital's sterile white walls. But every day I put on my most treasured mask – that of the professional.  
  
I answer curtly as the nurses question me about my condition, and I lie. “I'm good, I'm fine, it feels better today.” But it doesn't really. It hurts. But I want out of here, as soon as possible. I want to be by his side again. But it won't happen any day soon, it seems.  
  
Why is there a voice inside my head screaming “I just wish someone would just tell me what's going on!”? It's not professional. It shouldn’t happen. Not while wearing my mask. It just shouldn't.  
  
Unless my mask is cracking up, crumbling, falling away in little pieces.  
  
I need to get it together, damn it. I'm the leader of the Turks, the always calm and collected Tseng.  
  
But nobody tells me nothing.  
  
I'm breaking down, I can tell. I'm even beginning to ramble.  
  
I want to see him. That's what it boils down to. I want to see Rufus. Not Rufus Shinra, President, but Rufus Shinra, the man I've sworn to protect with my life. The one I...  
  
The one I...  
  
Love.  
  
Yes. Even with all his flaws and his less-than-pleasant personality, I love him. And he probably knows it too, and takes advantage of it for all its worth. That's Rufus for you. In his world, you only exist as long as you serve a purpose. Serve **him**.  
  
Which I don't. Not right now – not as long as I'm broken. Which for all means and purposes equates to me being invisible. Invisible to him. I **should** be - everyone else would be.  
  
So when he suddenly steps through the door to my room, my breath hitches in my throat for a moment. A minuscule moment, but long enough for me to notice it.  
  
Another crack in the mask.  
  
He walks over to my bed, confident as ever.  
  
“Tseng. When will you return to your post?” As short and to the point as ever.  
  
“It will be a while, I fear.” I can't lie to him, the mask is too weak.  
  
“Ah.” He sits down on the chair by my bed. “I am sorry to hear that. I miss you.”  
  
He misses me?  
  
Misses **me**? I must not read too much into his words. Most likely, it's my services he misses.  
  
“How are you feeling?” he continues.  
  
He cares about how I feel? He never cares about what **anyone** feels. That's new.  
  
“I'm ... hurting. But I worry more. What is happening out there?” I want to know, I really do. I want to be in the loop, to be able to protect him. It seems it's the other way around right now. I don't like it.  
  
“The tide is coming in. What will be left when it washes back out, nobody knows. Not even me. But don't you worry, we'll make it through. You just focus on getting fit enough to return to my side. Where you should be.” With those words, he stands and makes to leave, turning his back to me and walking back outside. Standing in the empty door-frame, he half turns his head to look back at me. “Tseng. I'll be waiting for you.”  
  
Those words, that tone... I can't but help reading emotions into the phrase that I would probably be better off not having done. Because I must have imagined them, and they will most likely haunt me for days, making me lose even more sleep.  
  
“Be safe.” It's the only thing I can think of saying, and I mean it. I want him to be safe. “Be the wind.”  
  
That made no sense; why would I even say that?  
  
He stares at me for a second, and seems to be considering something. Then he turns on the spot, and briskly walks over to my bedside again. Without a word, he leans in over me. Leans in and kisses me.  
  
Rufus Shinra kisses me.  
  
Not sweetly, not lovingly, not comfortingly. Just effectively, dominantly. Even his kisses feel like tornadoes, sweeping all you defences out of the way. Passionately.  
  
The mask shatters completely, and my true face surfaces. I don't care - I trust him.  
  
As soon as the kiss ends, Rufus straightens back up and makes to leave again.  
  
“Call on me when you're out of here. I'll be waiting for you.”  
  
I haven't been left behind and now I know Rufus'll be all right – somehow. But there will be chaos in the wake of the tide. A lot of chaos. And as soon as I get out of here I can take part in it all. By his side.  
  
I need a new mask.  
  
A bright and sharp one to match his.


End file.
